Thinking about Clifton Senior made him irrationally angry, and there was no explanation for it. “Ex-husband, and I said, it’s none of your business. Don’t talk like that about her ex-husband. It’s shitty.”
Gage’s brow furrowed. “He does wear heels. So what? That’s not shitty. That’s the truth. And why is it Tag’s business and not mine? You two are just like you always were when we were kids. Always leaving me out of the good stuff.” He held a finger up at Jax. “But wait. Hold that thought.” Turning his gaze to Tag, he said, “Why are you all in an uproar over him having sex with Emmaline? Shouldn’t we, as the same gender, be supporting that?”
Tag flicked his fingers in the air in a gesture that said he gave up. “Forget I ever said anything. I’ll go downstairs and wait for Maizy.” He stalked out of his room, the heavy thunk of his work boots clunky and loud.
Gage shook his head, driving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “What the hell is wrong with him lately? I know he’s been through some shit, but he’s always up someone’s ass barking. You should have heard him bitch out that high school kid he hired to help with the framing in the spare bedroom. He made a simple mistake, but you’d think he’d blown the house up. I had to shut Tag down before the poor dude cried. He’s on a serious tear these days.”
Jax sighed. Tag was touchy, on edge and raw—and they were dealing, but sometimes he wanted to put him in a headlock until he just got it all out. Got everything out. Talked about it—made an effort to get to a place he could live with what he’d been through. “It takes time to get your footing after what happened.” It was a feeble excuse, but what else was there to say? Everyone healed in their own way. Some maybe never did.
Gage’s face twisted into a scowl. “We all miss Harper. He doesn’t get to claim missing her more.”
“His experience was different, Gage. You know that.”
“You sound like those counselors we went to see with Maizy.”
“Maybe I learned a thing or two.”
Gage’s pretty face went smiley. He flashed his teeth before saying, “So forget Tag. What’s going on with you and the hot lady who works for a phone-sex company? Bet she knows a thing or two.”
“Stop being twelve.” Why did it offend him to hear her referred to in anything but the highest regard?
“Well, I’d be thirty-four, if you’d let me. But it seems I can’t get out from under little-brother mode.”
Jax clamped a hand on his little brother’s shoulder and squeezed. “Sorry. Instinct.”
“Tell me about her.”
His lips lifted in a stupid smile before he could stop it. “You already know she’s incredibly hot. But she’s also smart, and funny, and when she’s excited about something, she gets a little chatty. But it’s cute.” And when she said his name with that light Southern drawl of hers, it made him hard. “She’s also a helluva mother.”
“And she makes you smile. That’s nice. So why’s Tag pissed about her?”
“Reece.”
Gage’s head bobbed. “’Nuff said. You heard from her since she called last week?”
Gage attempted to tread lightly, but his eyes zeroed in on Jax’s while he waited for an answer. “Nope. I called her back. She called me back, but didn’t leave a message. Haven’t heard from her since.” Hope to never hear from her again.
“I’m just gonna say this and then I’ll shut it. Unlike Tag, I liked Reece. I liked her a lot. I was an idiot. That said, do what you can to keep her away from Maizy. Hire some fancy attorneys with your buttloads of money. Take Maizy to Africa and hide out in a hut. Whatever. Just know, I’d cover for you.”
“You’re a good little brother.”
“I’m the damn best. So I take it this thing with Emmaline’s a secret?”
“How’d you guess?”
“The two of you screaming it at each other was a huge help in solving the newest Hawthorne mystery.”
“Keep it under wraps.”
“You bet. And now I’m out. There’s a game and a six-pack of juice boxes waiting for me downstairs in the parlor—or whatever we’re calling that half-assed room with a huge flat screen and a pathetic beanbag chair.” Gage grabbed him up and bumped shoulders with him before leaving him with his thoughts and an entire box of condoms.
Wishful thinking, my eye.
*
Wow. It was dark. Inky blackness engulfed Em when she closed the door of her car with as much care as possible. She’d parked by a stump about five hundred feet away from Destination Dirty so prying eyes wouldn’t see her car behind Jax’s.
She winced when she crunched her way over a pile of dead leaves while following the sound of the creek running alongside his house.
If they were going to make his guesthouse their lair of business makin’, Jax was going to have to leave her a trail of bread crumbs or something so she’d be able to find her way in. Especially if she wore heels this high and a ridiculous trench coat she’d thought was so mysterious and sexy when she’d dug it out of her closet an hour ago.